As everyone who has ever joined a club knows, Pugs is the world’s most exclusive one, its members ranging from German nobility and Greek and Danish royalty to the British upper classes, Indian nobility and American and Greek aristocracy. Plus Sir Bob Geldof and Roger Taylor of pop music royalty. Club rules prohibit membership to exceed 21, hence a titanic struggle is taking place, as I write, to fill the last two spots. We are, at present, 19 members.
Last week in London, the annual Pugs lunch took place and I flew over for it from New York, despite running a temperature and suffering from flu. Mind you, it was worth it. Everyone wore the sky-blue and white striped necktie of the club, evoking a gentler time when men wore uniforms and marched in step. At one head of the table sat Sir Christopher Lee, our oldest member, who, at the age of 92, has two films and three recordings out this year alone. At the other end were Sir Bob Geldof and club commodore Tim Hoare. I sat between Count Leopold Bismarck and Prince Nikolaos of Greece, who had flown in from the birthplace of electrolysis especially for the meeting.
His older brother, Crown Prince Pavlos of Greece, opened the proceedings by suggesting we leave the voting for new members until last — the prince is a very nice man who does not like blackballing people — but his suggestion was unanimously rejected. Even before the first course, but after numerous bottles of wine had been consumed, we dealt with a plethora of proposals for membership, a most pleasant business. For starters, Charles Saatchi received 19 black balls out of 19, which means his name can never come up again.
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